


Casual Affair

by FrecklesAndUndercuts



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cheating, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Music, M/M, Strong Language, Underage Drinking, unfaithful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:23:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrecklesAndUndercuts/pseuds/FrecklesAndUndercuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts as an innocent sleepover turns into a lustful and passionate charade that leaves Marco as a guilty, unfaithful boyfriend and Jean a heartbroken mess. Despite his unwillingness to end things with his long time girlfriend, Mina, Marco can't stop thinking about Jean. What follows is a string of mangled friendship, heartbreak, secrets, manipulation, and an affair that no one will ever forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wishes in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, hey there, and welcome to yet another JeanMarco fic! So after a hiatus of writing, I decided to try my hand at it again and see what pops out. I just happened to be cruising through the JeanMarco tag on tumblr while listening to the song this was based off and BAM, Casual Affair was born. 
> 
> So yeah, enjoy these two losers. I may end up writing Jean's POV somewhere down the road, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

_Hey, a casual affair_  
That could go anywhere  
And only for tonight 

_Take any moment, any time_  
A lover on the left  
A sinner on the right 

_Stay for as long as you have time_  
So the mess that we'll become  
Leaves something to talk about 

**~ Casual Affair : Panic! At the Disco**

Let me just start out by saying that I, Marco Bodt, am a terrible person. No, it’s true, I am! No matter what you may hear about me from other people about how I am this sort of angelic creature—"Freckled Jesus" I think their name is for me—it is 100% a lie. 

I never intended the following things to happen on the night that the beautiful Jean Kirstein came over for a bit of late night stargazing, but it happened, and I can’t undo anything that’s already happened.

So I guess that sort of leaves you with this wondering about what exactly did happen that night, right? Well wait no more, because I’m about to tell you.

Jean came over about half past six, right after I had finished eating dinner with Reiner and Bertholdt. Since starting university this past fall, I didn’t have enough money to stay on residency and so I had moved into their spare bedroom for the time being until I could afford to stay on the campus. I had to admit, it was a bit of a drive seeing as their house was on the outskirts of the main city with no other house around for at least a couple miles, but at least I wasn’t living out of a box behind the university.

Jean and I waited until nightfall when the moon was hovering high in the sky as it cast its glow over the grass of the vast backyard, coating it in a blanket of silver. Thousands of stars twinkled above, giving the atmosphere a tranquil feeling to anyone gazing upon its beauty, and a cricket was chirping nearby, the only sound that could be heard in the backyard where we laying on the grass, side by side.

I parted my lips in a silent yawn and shuffled on the grass to ease off the rock that was jutting painfully into my back. We had been out here for at least an hour and a half at my best guess, waiting for the so called “show”. I felt Jean readjust himself as well beside me, but neither of us dared to look away from the night sky in dreading that we would miss what was about to come.

“Any second now,” Jean whispered, breaking the silence.

“Don't forget to make your wish when it comes,” I murmured back to him, lightly nudging his arm with my own.

“You too.”

A few more moments of silence and waiting went by between us before a shooting star suddenly cut across the sky and I sat up abruptly at the sight. Jean joined me a half a second later, his brown eyes flashing for a brief second as the light was there, and then it wasn't. 

“Wow, that was amazing! Did you see that, Jean?” I squeaked excitedly, glancing over at my best friend.

Jean snorted, his eyes still fixed on the spot, then flickering over to my face with a look that had sarcasm written all over it. “No, Marco, I didn’t see the giant shooting star,” he mocked and gave me a shove which made me fall onto my side. “Dumbass, of course I saw it! Did you remember to make a wish?”

I was silent for a moment as I sat back up, but then a feeling of disappointment washed over me and I slumped my shoulders. “Oh, right, I forgot about that. Crap…”

Jean chuckled softly and lightly punched my shoulder. “There's always next time; there will be more tonight,” he reassured me, getting up off the grass and dusting off his faded jeans. “Come on, Bertholdt said he was going to make dessert for us. It's probably ready by now.”

I nodded, thankful that it was dark so that Jean couldn’t see the blush of embarrassment that was appearing on my freckled complexion. It was probably better that I didn’t make my wish—who knows what would have happened if I did and it came true. I’m sure you can all guess on what exactly I would have wished for. 

Jean offered me his hand and hauled me to my feet before setting off towards the back door to the small house. I stayed behind for a moment and took one more glance back at the sky, hoping to catch another shooting star, but none came.

I mumbled a few choice words of disappointment under my breath at the fact that I had forgotten the first time and followed Jean though back door, stepping into the much warmer atmosphere. The scent of chocolate floated up my nose instantly as well as the unforgettable aroma of cinnamon, my personal favourite scent.

Bertholdt was in the kitchen, his hair wrapped up in a hair net and an apron tied around his waist reading “kiss the baker”. Flour littered the counters and there was a smudge of chocolate on his cheek. He smiled when he saw us enter.

“Hey you two, just in time. The brownies just got out of the oven,” he chirped happily, slipping oven mitts over his hands and opening the oven. Warm air wafted into the room, bringing a smile to my face as Bertholdt pulled out the brownies and closed the oven.

“Thanks, Bertholdt,” I thanked him and Jean chimed in with a “thanks, Bertie” before heading for the cabinet and pulling out two plates. I shot him a look which Jean chose to ignore like the smug little bastard that he was.

Bertholdt just smiled and removed the apron before he put the oven mitts away. “No problem. I haven’t baked in so long that it’s you two I should be thanking for getting me back into the kitchen. Just give them a few minutes to cool off and they should be ready to go. Oh, and Marco, your brownies are the ones on the left side of the pan, all right? I’ll still never understand why you like cinnamon in them. I’ll have to pick some more up when I get back tomorrow morning.”

“So you're going out tonight?” I asked, wandering over to the freezer and rummaging around for the vanilla ice cream.

“Yeah, Reiner and I have a date. I’m picking him up from work and then we’re going out somewhere. It’s a surprise apparently,” Bertholdt explained, quickly making himself presentable as he glanced over at the clock. “Damn, I'm going to be late.”

“Have fun on your date,” Jean called out in a teasing tone after him as Bertholdt disappeared from the room to look for his car keys.

“Shut up, Jean!” he hollered back, reappearing a moment later with car keys in hand. “Um, what else am I forgetting? Oh! Marco, the sleeping bags are out and if you need any blankets, they're just in the closet.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Jean said with a laugh and I couldn’t help but laugh with him too. Bertholdt could be so motherly and fussy towards me sometimes that he was almost worse than my own mother, but I appreciated the concern nonetheless.

I plucked the carton of ice cream from the freezer and set it on the table with an ice cream scoop while Jean began to cut the now cooled down brownies.

“Um, Bertholdt, one more thing? Jean and I are going to sleep outside tonight to watch the meteor shower. Do you have a tent we could borrow?” I asked.

Already halfway out the door, Bertholdt paused and furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought. “I think it's upstairs in the attic, but I'm not sure; you'll have to check. I'll see you guys in the morning!” And with that, Bertholdt closed the door and hurried out to the car. The start of an engine was heard a moment later before the squeal of tires faded into the distance.

I sat at the table with another bowl and spoon for extra ice cream and Jean joined me, handing me a cinnamon filled brownie before he tore into his own.

“Is he always like that?” he snickered, his voice hushed as though Bertholdt were still in the room. “I think I might lose it if I had to put up with that every day.”

“Hey!” I said defensively. “He’s just looking out for us. He and Reiner have been great in letting me stay here with them. I bet they would let you too if you asked nicely.”

“Yeah, fat chance. I think I’ll stick with my overpriced dorm at the university with Connie,” Jean snorted. “I don’t know how you do it.”

I sighed, dropping the short-lived subject. “So, what do you want to do for the rest of the night?” I asked as I scooped ice cream onto Jean’ plate. “The meteor shower isn’t supposed to happen for at least a couple more hours.”

Jean shrugged, dabbing his finger onto his plate and licking the crumbs of his brownie from his fingers. He sat in thought for a moment and then a devilish smile suddenly played on his lips. “How about we play Call of Duty? Whoever loses two out of the three games has to set up the tent.”

Immediately, I slumped in my chair as if in defeat. “But I always lose at that game when I play against you!” I protested through a mouthful of a cinnamon filled brownie.

Jean’s eyes seemed to twinkle in the glow of the kitchen light. “Exactly.” With a wink, he got up and put his dishes into the sink.

I let out a another longer sigh. “Ugh, fine,” I agreed and deposited my now empty plate on the counter before narrowing my eyes at Jean. It was hard to say no to him. “You know, you talk pretty big game for somebody who has a little schmootz right there on your cheek. Here, let me get that for you.” I licked my thumb teasingly and reached out for Jean who had a splat of ice cream painted on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, dude, no!” Jean protested, nearly falling over as he doubled backwards to avoid me and sprinted to the living room. When I entered, he hastily wiped his mouth against his sleeve, removing the ice cream.

I laughed and headed to the TV, tossing a controller at him. “It’s game time.”

Jean caught it and turned it on, narrowing his eyes playfully in my direction. “You’re on, hot shot.”

Within minutes, we were both up on the couch in tense, leaned forward positions, our eyes glued to the TV screen as our fingers worked furiously at the controllers, each trying to defeat the other in a game of capture the flag. But, hard as I tried, Jean always managed to sneak in at the last minute and get the final kill of one of my teammates and win.

Two rounds later and the controller fell from my hands and onto my lap while Jean punched the air with a cry of victory. “I suck at this game,” I muttered.

Jean let out a half-hearted laugh. “I don’t know; you came pretty close on that second round there. Don’t even worry about it though; I'll even help you with the tent, you poor sport. Where did old Bertie say it was?”

“He said it’s up in the attic,” I reminded him and elbowed Jean in the ribs for his comment. “Come on, I'll show you.”

Letting his own controller drop to the ground, Jean followed me up the stairs to my makeshift bedroom for the time being and towards the hidden door that lead to the attic—conveniently in the spare room. It made for lots of nightmare fuel some nights.

“Here, take this. We’re going to need it,” I said and handed Jean the flashlight that was on top of my dresser. “It’s just up here; stand back for a second.” Grasping the string that dangled from the ceiling, I gave it a swift tug and the attic cracked open, revealing a ladder that slid down in a cloud of dust, narrowly missing Jean’s shoulder.

Jean coughed and sputtered, dusting off the wood shavings that came with the dust cloud. “That’s fucking gross,” he said. “Does anyone even come up here?”

“Probably not for some time,” I noted and wiggled my nose to suppress a sneeze.

Jean absentmindedly clicked the flashlight and gestured to the now descent ladder. “Well up you go then; age before beauty,” he mocked.

“You’re the one who’s got the flashlight, genius. You’re first,” I laughed and gave Jean the same gesture.

Jean stared at me a thought he were trying to come up with a good comeback, but he just shook his head and a smirk tugged on the corner of his lip. “Touché.”

Jean began his ascent and I followed close behind him, but as I did, I couldn't help but notice, not to mention appreciate, just how nice Jean looked like from behind. Of course I had fantasized about it many times before in my wildest daydreams when class just seemed so boring, but there was something about seeing things in the flesh and right in front of your face that was ten times better. In all truthfulness, Jean had a pretty nice ass, if you could say that about your best friend, especially with the way that his jeans hugged it so perfectly…

I suddenly jerked out of my thoughts, hardly surprised that I was thinking about these things at a time like this. I had had a massive crush on Jean ever since we met in their freshman year at high school, but I had kept it mostly to myself all these years with only a few slip ups here and there. I didn’t want to risk losing my friendship with Jean over something as trifle as wanting to know what it felt like to hold hands while walking down the street, or to exchange a kiss between classes, or what Jean’s mouth would feel like if it was wrapped around my—

“Have I ever told you how much I hate the smell up here?” Jean asked, his voice knocking me out of my inappropriate thoughts as I nearly collided with Jean’s perfect backside. Jean hauled himself off the ladder onto the dusty ground, his nose wrinkling up in disgust the further he ventured in.

 _Dammit, Marco, stop doing that_ , I chastised myself.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, joining Jean a moment later. “The sooner we find the tent, the sooner we can get out. Look over there in those boxes; it’s probably in one of those.”

Both of us were soon tearing into the boxes that littered the floor until a victorious sound came from Jean who pulled out a giant green tent that had rods sticking everywhere out of it.

“Found it!” he exclaimed. 

I sealed the box that I had been searching through and went over to join Jean. “Great job, let's go.”

Jean moved first, carrying the tent, but one of the rods fell from the box and I foolishly stepped on it and slipped as I followed suit with the flashlight. With a yelp of surprise, my arm's flailed and I grasped onto the first thing I could find which happened to be the sleeve of Jean's dark hoodie. The tent fell from Jean's hands and clattered to the floor as we both fell, the flashlight also dropping and rolling out of sight.

Jean was the unfortunate one who took most of the impact, the sound of his head loud against the wooden floorboards and he cried out in pain. I managed to catch myself, barely missing Jean's head as me hands landed on either side of it, my body suspended just enough that the fabric of my shirt just brushed Jean’s hoodie.

It was suddenly then as Jean moaned and opened his eyes that a familiar churning feeling in my stomach arose that didn’t make me move off of Jean right away. It was familiar because it had been happening almost every day for the past five years whenever I was near Jean. I felt it when Jean brushed by me all those times at school, or on those nights when we would stay up late and watch movies and Jean would always end up falling asleep and slumping against my shoulder.

This was like all those other times, except different at the same time because as I stared down at Jean, my best friend was also staring back at me with some expression that I couldn't quite pinpoint. Jean's breathing was heavier and so was mine, but instead of it being from the fall for me, something else was aching in the back of my head that I had longed to do for so long.

Then, without any warning and second thoughts, I lowered my slightly crooked head and closed my parted lips around Jean's.

The kiss lasted no more than two seconds before Jean squirmed underneath me with a moan of protest and pried his lips away from mine. I also realized what I had done and scrambled backwards off of Jean in a panic and into a box which fell with a clatter.

"I'm so sorry," I barely squeaked out.

"Ow, my fucking head," he grumbled as he sat back up.

Whether he heard me or not, I didn't know, but at that moment, I felt like backing away into a dark corner and not ever coming out. “I-I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry, Jean,” I murmured hastily, a little louder this time.

Jean was silent in the moments that he got to his feet and picked up the fallen tent, but just shrugged it off once he had all the pieces back into the box. “It's all right; no big deal,” he said and half-smiled at me which only made my stomach churn again and my cheeks turn hot. Wait, no big deal for what? The fall? The kiss?

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen—I don’t even know—”I started.

Jean let out a long sigh as though he were suddenly irritated. “Marco, just slow down and stop, okay? Forget about it--it's no big deal.” His voice was firm which caused me to fall silent, his chocolate eyes looking steadily back into mine.

“Okay,” I said quietly and looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

Jean nodded curtly. “Okay.”

We remained quiet the remainder of the walk out to the backyard, mostly because a huge lump had formed in my throat and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get rid of it.

 _Way to go, you've blown it this time, Marco_ , I thought bitterly to myself. _You’ve ruined everything. You may as well just say good bye to your friendship because it’s definitely over now._ Although, maybe it was a good thing that Jean hardly acknowledged that it happened. Maybe nothing would change because of it; maybe nothing was going to be wrong after all.

Jean dropped the tent on the grass and quickly went to work on assembling it, struggling with the rod poles that were jutting out here and there. I was busy with another part of the tent, fastening it to the ground so it wouldn't fly away or fall over at any time in the night. Once or twice, I caught Jean looking over at me from the side, but when I looked back over, Jean quickly looked away. Every time that it happened, I cursed under his breath, mentally chastising myself for being so stupid. I couldn’t take it; I had to know what he was thinking.

“Listen, about the incident upstairs…” I started, coming around the tent to be beside Jean.

“Fuck, Marco, will you just let it go already? You worry too much,” Jean interrupted me with a forced chuckle, bringing his hand hard down on my shoulder. “Relax, it was no big deal. Shit happens and we move on, alright? Same goes for this.” He looked me straight in the eyes for a long moment and I could even swear that I saw Jean's eyes flicker down to my lips for a brief second, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was only my own selfish desires taking over and it was what I wanted to see. But confusion washed over me again as Jean then caught himself and licked his lips nervously before he removed his hand and went back to work on the tent.

This only left me even more confused than what I was before. Sure, Jean and I were best friends, so we were closer than most other people in his life, but I never thought about us being more than that in a serious sense. At least, not back then. I had a desire to be close with him and to be his friend—maybe get to know all of his secrets and hang out with someone who I could trust and connect with. But I soon realized that I wanted more from him than just friendship and that’s when the dreams started.

I had been having the same re-occurring dream every night, and it kept getting more and more intense as the nights passed. It was about Jean and I…doing things. Things that I didn't even know I could ever fantasize about and I would always wake up in a sweat, breathing heavily and being extremely confused…not to mention aroused…

Lost in my own thoughts, I hardly heard when Jean called out my name. 

“Marco. Marco? Hey, you still with me?”

“Hm?” I stopped fumbling with the last corner of the tent and looked up to see Jean staring at me with a worried look on his face. “Did you say something?”

Jean shook his head and walked over to me and placed both his hands on my shoulders again, giving me a light shake. I could feel the irritability in his grip. “You really need to loosen up and help me with this tent. Ever since the attic you’ve been on edge. I told you, it was no big deal. We’re fine and I’m not going to say anything to Mina, I promise.”

My breath suddenly caught in my throat. Mina. How could I have forgotten about my _girlfriend_. With black hair tied in cute pigtails and beautiful grey eyes, Mina was the kind of girl anyone would be lucky to have. She was also smart and originally my tutor for history which is how we met in the first place. She could have been with anyone, but she chose me, the boy who was having sexual dreams about his best friend. Granted, we had only been going out for the last year, and were taking things really slow, but a year is pretty long time if you ask the average person. If she ever found out what I had done tonight…

Yes, I, Marco Bodt, am a terrible person.

A shiver ran through me as scenario after nasty scenario ran through my head of all the things she would say and do. “Thanks, Jean. But I am sorry about—” But before I could finish my sentence, Jean covered my mouth with his hand.

“No. Stop apologizing right now or I’m going to have to punch you out. I swear, you’re worse than a Canadian,” Jean said firmly. “Now help me get the stuff from inside so we can set up the tent and then we can have some fun.” His hard gaze softened almost instantly and a mischievous smile spread across his face.

My breath caught in my throat and my ears burned as inappropriate thoughts filtered back into my brain. “F-fun?” I stammered out, my voice raising an octave which earned a laugh from Jean.

“Yeah, fun! You know, drinking! Shots! That kind of fun!” Jean said excitedly as he started walking towards the house. “I have a thing of 151 and a bottle of coke in my backpack and I’m sure Bertie wouldn’t mind if we raided his alcohol cupboard for the night. We’re twenty after all and you really need to relax.”

The mention of Bacardi 151 made me rub the back of neck uncomfortably and let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn’t 151 a little extreme for tonight, Jean?”

“Hey, if you want to ease up and enjoy the rest of the night, this drink is just the thing for you,” Jean called over his shoulder. “I’ll have you drunk in ten minutes, Marco Bodt, mark my words.

A warm feeling spread up to my sternum as I followed Jean into the house and within five minutes we had set up everything in the tent in the backyard. Littered on the floor were sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, three kinds of alcohol, and multiple shot glasses. Jean had always been a bit of a partier, and at the sight of the alcohol and shot glasses, he suddenly got a burst of energy and slapped me playfully on the back with a cry of excitement.

“Woo! Let’s get this night started!” 

Still giddy with excitement, Jean crawled into the tent and I followed after him nervously, thinking less and less about Mina, and more about the fun that was about to ensue. By the time that I had already settled himself on the floor in front of Jean, he had already poured himself a shot of Vodka we had taken from the house and had his arm stretched out towards me with one for me.

“You certainly waste no time,” I laughed and cautiously took it from him.

Jean smiled and threw his head back as he downed his shot. “The faster we get alcohol into you, the faster you can stop acting like such a downer and have some fun. We’ve been planning this for weeks, we’re not going to let something as stupid as an in-the-moment kiss ruin our night.”

“Yeah, stupid,” I murmured under my breath and threw back my shot as well before handing the empty shot glass back to Jean which he gladly filled back up and handed back to me. Before the glass could touch my lips again though, Jean piped up.

“Ah! Before you take that, we’re going to play a game, okay?” His amber eyes sparkled mischievously as he set his empty shot glass aside and cracked open his bottle of 151.

I snuck a small sip of the vodka in his glass which was a mistake because I ended up choking on the harsh liquid. “What kind of game?” I rasped.

“Nothing that you haven’t heard of,” Jean reassured. “It’s called Never Have I Ever.”

I cleared my throat. “Oh yeah, we played that at Ymir’s last party!” I exclaimed. 

“Yeah, but it’s better if you don’t play with girls, even if it is a girly game. They say things like ‘never have I ever worn my bra two days in a row.’” Jean rolled his eyes. “You know, chick stuff. We’re different than them, not to mention older. We’ve done things,” Jean emphasized, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

 _Not really if you’re talking about sex_ , I thought to myself and swirled the contents of my glass nervously.

“You go first,” Jean said without waiting for a reply and took a shot of the newly opened 151, quickly chasing it with some coke.

“Um…” Crap, this is harder than I thought. “Never have I ever eaten a Sour Key.”

Jean stared blankly back at me and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip before he poured another shot and chaser. “Come on, Marco; you’ve got better stuff than that. That’s stuff we would say in Grade Seven. That one is gonna get me two shots.” 

My heart began to pound. Jean and I had been friends since we were in high school, but I wasn’t about to open up to him about all the things that I had never done. There were just things that I wanted to keep to myself and not share with the rest of the world.

“Here, it’s my turn now; I’ll show you how it’s done,” Jean said after two shots of vodka. “Never have I ever had sex outside.”

My already frantic heartbeat picked up the pace as images of Jean pinning me down right here and right now and having his way with me danced across my brain which I quickly snapped out of and shrugged my shoulders in reply to him. “Sorry, Jean. I’m not that adventurous.”

“Fuck.” Even though he wasn’t meant to take a drink, Jean took this third shot of 151. “Why do I feel I’m the only one who’s even going to get a buzz here?” 

“Because you’ve basically done everything in the book, and you’re not even playing the game right,” I teased playfully and drained my shot glass for the fun of it.

This continued for the next twenty minutes and by the end, Jean had had five shots of 151 and I had a good four shots of vodka in my system. With every shot, the more ridiculous that the answers got until both of us were flushed in the face and rolling on the floor with laughter. The coke bottle had been knocked over by Jean as he tried to get up one time, soaking my sleeping bag, but that just spiraled us back into another laughing fit.

“You knooow, Marcooo,” Jean slurred when he calmed down, twirling the bottle of 151, “your fric—freckles are kind of cute.”

I blushed furiously and snorted. “I like your butt," I said, and we started laughing even harder.

"Yeah well, no homo, but I stare at your crotch aaaaaall the time. Betcha can't beat that, freckles." 

I was speechless for a moment until through my fuzzy mind that this had turned into some sort of competition to Jean to see who could one-up the other. "A’ight you, I think you’ve had enough of that 151. Here’s a never-eveeer-whatever for you,” I said and reached for Jean’s 151 and nearly fell over with a laugh. “Never have I ever tried 151; let’s fix that.” 

Jean smirked and drank on more gulp before holding the bottle out towards me. “Careful, Marky, this shit burrns and we have no more cock--I mean coke.”

I reached for it, but my hand clasped around thin air as Jean pulled his hand back and smiled that devilish grin of his. 

“Come on, Jeaaaaan, don’t be like that,” I pouted.

“If you wan' it, come and get it.”

I immediately got on my hands and knees and leaned towards Jean to get the bottle. “Give it here,” I whined with a small laugh, but Jean backed up and held it out of reach and made it even harder for me to reach it. Standing up wasn’t an option—the world was on a massive tilt from the alcohol in my system. Having such a tiny body, it didn’t take much to feel the alcohol hit me.

I crawled closer to Jean until the smug kid was nearly on his back with his hand stretched out behind him as far as it would go. “Come on, Jean!”

“Noooo way in hell, freckles! You gotta work for what you want!” Jean laughed and tried to push me away, but to no avail. Jean had practically no strength when he was intoxicated. 

My determination to get the bottle completely clouded over the fact that I had wedged my leg in between Jean’s and that the space between our faces as Jean slowly adjusted himself was growing slimmer by the second. But with one final grunt of effort, I clasped the bottle in my hand.

“I got—!” I cried and looked down at Jean, still expecting him to be farther away. What I was greeted with was Jean’s lips millimeters away from mine and as I looked down, our lips faintly brushed and a shiver seized my body and my breath caught in my throat.

“Hey there, freckles,” Jean cooed teasingly, his hands slowly running up my sides and faintly brushing the skin underneath my shirt.

 _Oh no, not again…_ But instead of pushing me away like Jean did the last time, he lingered where he was and his nose brushed against my cheek as though he was begging for me to kiss him. _You have a girlfriend, don’t do this._

As much as I so desperately wanted to feel Jean’s lips against mine again and surrender to his touch, the better of me took over and I cleared my throat awkwardly and released my grip on the bottle, backing up until I was a fair distance away.

“Sorry,” I murmured, a word that had left my lips more times than I could count on both our hands and feet combined. I expected Jean to shut me up or not say anything, but instead when I looked up from my gaze at the ground, Jean was chuckling quietly to himself and holding the now capped bottle of 151 out toward me.

“You got it,” he said, gently tossing it across the small space between us.

I blinked in momentary confusion. Nothing? No freak out? No joke? No comment? Nothing? I guess it was for the better, other than the fact that a million questions were swirling around my head. One of them being: did Jean want to kiss me again? And the even more important one: why the hell did I just move away from the one situation I had longed to be in for so long? I pushed away his hopeful thoughts with a drink of 151 in hopes that images of Mina would fade from my mind. The fiery burning sensation as that devil fire of a drink went down was enough to make me cough and bring me back to Jean.

“Anywayyyys, is my turn for duh game!” And just like that, Jean was back to normal, or at least as normal as you can be strung out on alcohol, completely unfazed, like nothing had happened in the past thirty seconds. “Nevah ‘ave I eva’ snuck ouuut of the house at night.”

I nearly choked on my drink as I took another shot. “Mr. Hotshot has never snuck outta the house?”

Jean scoffed and he narrowed his eyes disbelievingly. “Oh wha’, and you have?” He shot me a look that practically begged me to tell the story behind this grand escapade. 

“Yee, actu’lly,” I began slowly, sitting up a little taller at the fact that I had done something that the bold and fearless Jean Kirstein had never done. 

With his head cocked to one side like a confused puppy, Jean lost his balance and rolled onto his back, splayed out in front of me with a drunken laugh. “Tell me’a story, freckles,” he slurred and reached up to toy with the hem of my shirt.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just let him lay there. “I’s not tha’ hard when you live with Bertie—” I snickered for a moment at the fact that I had actually said that— “and Reiner who are usu’lly out at night. Besides…” I shifted a little and stroked a piece of hair off of Jean’s forehead. “…it’s not like they’re my parents or any’hing.”

“Lucky bastar’; Uni is a fuckin’ bitch for doin’ the whole ‘not staying out past eleven,’” Jean chuckled and squirmed to get comfortable. “Whadd'ya do?”

I shrugged, fiddling with the Bacardi bottle while I debated on whether or not to burn my throat again with the 151. “I usu’lly meet up with Mina somewhere.”

Jean waggled his eye brows suggestively.

“I’s no’ what you thiiiiink!” I protested through my fuzzy brain, and glared down at Jean who had a goofy face plastered on.

“Well obvs you guys do something,” Jean whined with disinterest and his hips began to rock against the ground as a form of fidgeting.

I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off him for a moment before continuing on with the story. “N-not a whole lot to be hones’. If it’s a clear nigh’ we usu’lly go to the park, look up at the stars, and see what…shape thingies…we can find.”

Jean made a face that looked like he had tasted something sour. “Shape thingies?” he snorted, then realized I meant constellations and grew disinterested again. “Don’ you guys ever make out or do anythin’ exciting?”

I turned bright red in the face. “She’s…no' really into that kind of stuff,” I said slowly, trying to enunciate my words, and I rubbed my ear uncomfortably. It was a lie, obviously. Mina had told me countless times that she wanted to take that step with me and even sleep with me, but aside from nearly naked spooning and a few prolonged kisses, I was pretty much a virgin in the relationship department. No making out, no sex, no nothing.

Jean obviously caught on despite being drunk and his mouth gaped open as realization hit him. He got up from my legs at an awkward stumble and sat facing me with his eyes wide. “Wait a sec; you’ve never made ou' with anyone before, 'ave you?”

I shuffled uncomfortably and averted his gaze, all which were just adding to this pathetic lie.

“Ha! You haven’! I knewww it!” Jean cried and booped me on the nose, his flushed face turning even redder as a small laugh escaped his lips and then erupted into gut wrenching laughter.

“Ssssssssh, you! It’s not tha’ big of a deal!” I smacked him with a nearby pillow and nearly upset the bottles of alcohol beside him.

When Jean finished laughing, he wiped his eye as though brushing away a tear. “Duuuude, how ‘ave you not taken that step with Mina yet? She’s pretty! Mos' guys would be all over that!”

Most guys. Those words rang throughout my head and vibrated deep within to my core. You mean straight guys who aren’t confused with their sexuality and want into their best friend’s pants.

“Wha’s holdin’ you back?” Jean’s voice once again snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I jus'… I don’t wanna be bad at it. I dunno what to do or how to…you know get into the…” I rocked back and forth as I tried to explain what I meant. “…flow of it. It would just be so awkward.”

Jean was silent for a moment and even though I wasn’t staring directly at him, I could feel Jean’s piercing gaze sweep over my entire body as if he were in deep thought. His next words nearly made my heart stop beating altogether.

“Why don’ you practice on me then?”

I looked up from my lap to see that Jean had moved and was now kneeling in front of me, crouched back on his heels—teetering precariously—his beautiful eyes never leaving my face for a second. Even though I knew Jean was intoxicated, and I knew from other parties that Jean was an incredibly affectionate drunk, there was a look of seriousness and longing etched into his facial expression that wasn’t there before. No, it wasn’t possible. There was no way that this was actually happening.

_You have a girlfriend. You have a girlfriend who loves you. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it._

“What do you say?” Jean asked. His voice had turned sultry, inviting, irresistible; it turned my insides into a pool of molten gold. Jean’s hand slowly reached up and cupped my cheek, his thumb gently caressing the side of one of my high cheekbones. The touch itself sent an electric current down my entire body and I shook as though I had actually been electrocuted. My lips involuntary parted and I drew in a shaky breath. There was no way I could ever go through with this—I would never forgive myself.

“I…I…I’m gonna get you some water; you’re drunk; I’m drunk…” I said quickly, pushing Jean’s hand away and getting to my feet, but Jean grabbed my wrist before I could get anywhere and I toppled back down from being so unbalanced. Jean caught me and I found myself lying in his arms, clutched to his chest.

“No,” he said firmly, looking into my eyes pleadingly.

“No, Jean, I can't… Please.” But the look on Jean's face was almost impossible to resist and I couldn't bring myself to look away. “Jean… I can't,” I stressed, trying to push away from him but to no avail.

“Marco… Please…” Jean said, his voice a pained whisper and his grip on me tightened, almost possessively. “I know you want me…” That mischievous twinkle appeared in his eye again--he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

Hard as it was to admit, Jean was right. The scent of his cheap cologne was taunting me and one look at his soft, full lips was enough to send me over the edge into the fire of lust. In fact, at the moment, I would give anything to take Jean by his face and crush his lips and body against my own. The very thought of what lay underneath those jeans and hoodie sent my mind reeling and a warm feeling start in my stomach and spread to my inner thighs. I didn’t just want Jean, I needed him, craved him even, like a sip of icy water on the hottest day in summer.

“Please, Marco.” That tortured plea again… “It’s just a kiss…”

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave Jean’s side no matter what my brain was screaming at me. Everything but my heart was pleading with me not to kiss Jean, but this is what I wanted, what I had been waiting for. I knew that if I backed down now that there would never be an opportunity like this again. But a step towards Jean was a step away from Mina and I could already feel her fading from my thoughts and she was being replaced with images from my dreams and the feeling of Jean’ soft lips.

Then suddenly, almost as if someone had turned off a light switch, something snapped inside my brain and all images of Mina were gone.

Fuck it.

My hand, almost robotically, reached up towards his chiseled face and my fingertips lightly grazed the side of his cheek. His skin was smooth, but still had a roughness to it as if Jean had only shaved the day before. His grip on me lightened and I pushed myself up so I was sitting sideways across his lap, still cradled in his warm embrace. 

A small smile cracked out of the corner of Jean’s lips and he reached up to touch my face again. I melted into the touch, relishing in the feeling of Jean’ rough hands against my skin and closed my eyes, tuning out everything around me.

I felt Jean shift, warm breath caressing my cheek as his face came closer towards me, but stopping just before me as he tested the waters to see how close he could get. I opened my eyes as a second hand took hold of my face and I realized just how close the both of us had become. 

Tentatively, my own hands reached out and felt the fabric of Jean’s dark hoodie and dipped under the hem of it to feel the smooth muscle of his sides and I feverishly pulled his body closer. My breaths became shaky again as our faces were a mere inch apart and any small movement would be enough for our lips to touch.

Jean trailed his hand from my cheek and moved it to the back of my neck, toying with the strands of my dark locks. Like before, he tilted his head and nudged the side of my nose with his own, teasing me, inviting me in...

“Kiss me,” he whispered.


	2. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so sorry I never updated on the weekend like I said I would. My girlfriend caught my flu bug and so I spent that time taking care of her.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left such sweet comments--you all are amazing and I'm really glad you like this so far. I spent yesterday planning out the rest of this story and I'm really excited to write it all out. c:
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

_Some believe in love at first sight_  
But this is just lust on the first night  
If it turns into more than that's alright  
But right now I don't want your kiss 

_I want your bite_  
Wanna feel your teeth on my neck  
Wanna taste the salt of your sweat  
Gonna rock your body all night  
It's lust at first sight 

_The way you're making me hot_  
Don't stop, you're hitting the spot  
Gonna rock your body all night  
It's lust at first sight 

**I Want Your Bite - Chris Crocker**

Jean was breathing irregularly and before I knew it, he was over me, sitting on my lap and straddling my waist as he held my head steady between his gentle hands. His hips sensually rocked from side to side and he ground into me once making me bite my lip so hard it nearly bled.

“Jean… What are you doing?” I asked, inhaling sharply as Jean thrust his pelvis a little harder into me.

“Continuing what you started,” Jean murmured lustfully, moving his hands up to tangle in the raven locks of my hair before pressing his soft and eager lips against mine.

I would have squeaked with surprise, but Jean was being so gentle in the moment, his lips moving slowly across mine as if he had been born to do this. I surrendered to him and his toxic kiss instantly, melting against his body and absorbing every inch of the beautiful human being attached to me. I wrapped my arms around his lean body, my hands trailing down his back till I reached that perfect ass of his and grasped it with both hands.

Jean groaned with pleasure and in response he took the kiss a step further, parting his lips and running his tongue along my lower lip till I parted my own and let him enter. He was cautious at first and slow as if he were showing me the ropes on how to kiss and it was driving me absolutely insane. With Jean, everything was just so natural and as my confidence grew, so did the intensity of the kiss.

My tongue joined his after a moment and together they danced in a lustful craze. Our hands began moving over each other’s bodies, and I relished in the rough skin that my fingers glided over and every time that Jean’s body dipped away into rippled muscle. It was everything and more that I had ever dreamed of. Well, mind you, I had dreamt of this, but that was only my imagination, and let me tell you—this was much more satisfying. From the leftover taste of brownie on Jean’s tongue to the way that his strong arms held me close, I couldn’t tell which part of this I loved the most.

Jean continued to rock against my body in a way that was absolutely torturous. I wanted nothing more than to rip all of his clothes off and expose the delicious skin hidden underneath those layers of clothes. Jean must have been thinking the same thing because the way he was pulling at the hem of my shirt now with such urgency made me wonder what the hell this blonde beauty was waiting for. 

I took matters into my own hands and broke apart our kiss which he immediately tried to go back to, but I pulled back to avoid his lips and began to lift his pull over hoodie off his body. He shrugged out of it and even took the liberty of quickly removing his own shirt, tossing it to the side with the cast aside sweatshirt. His lips crashed together with mine a second later and I let out a small squeak as the kiss knocked me over onto my back and the now shirtless Jean followed, pinning me down to the floor of the tent while his lips trailed kisses from my mouth, to the corner of my lip, and then down into the nape of my neck.

I inhaled sharply at the feeling of his lips on my skin and my nails found his shoulder blades, digging in as he took a piece of skin between his teeth and sucked hard to try and leave a hickey. I squirmed underneath him as panic overtook my pleasure and I tried to pry my neck away from him.

“Nnng, Jean… No hickies…” I moaned out in protest, but it was no use—the damage had been done. Well, at least it was a good thing that it was Autumn so no one would look at me funny for wearing a scarf for the next little while.

Jean obviously realized this as well for he ignored my moan and made another one adjacent to the one he had just made. He pulled away to admire his handy work and smirked down at my flushed face. 

“You’re mean,” I pouted teasingly.

“And you’re beautiful,” Jean smoothly retorted which made me laugh and I pulled at his belt loops to bring him down for another kiss.

His lips went back to being soft and sensual, his tongue moving slowly and gliding smoothly across mine as his hands trailed down my still clothed chest to brush against the bulge that was straining at the front of my jeans. As soon as his fingers brushed it, even through clothes, my body was jolted by an electric current that raced up my spine and sent tingles to the back of my skull. I needed him to touch me.

I broke the kiss again and moaned in want, tugging at his belt loops even harder in hopes that he would get the message, but all he did was chuckle.

“Use your words, freckles,” Jean purred, a deep rumble that vibrated deep in his throat.

“Please…” was all that I could whisper.

“Please, what?” 

“Jean, just take my clothes off!” I pleaded more strongly this time, my hands moving to undo the buttons myself, but Jean took hold of my hands and laced them with his own, pinning them above my head as he got dangerously close to my face.

“Be patient, freckles,” he murmured against my lips. “And don’t touch.”

I stared up into his eyes—his beautiful honey coloured eyes—and the look that he gave me made me stop struggling and go limp under him. I was at the mercy of Jean Kirstein and it was wonderful.

Jean released his hands from mine slowly as he tested to see how far my obedience would go and once he was sure that I wouldn’t touch, he began to unbutton my shirt, planting kisses along the length of my torso with each one that he popped open. His breath felt hot against my skin as he breathed over it when he came back to my lips and he gave me a small half second peck before pulling away again.

“Sit up,” he ordered.

I squirmed into an upright position, keeping my lips close to his as I did so, but every time I tried to kiss him, he denied me and a quiet growl rumbled in my chest. I’d show him who was a major tease.

Before Jean could do anything, I took advantage of my new found position and pulled my arms out of my button-up, tossing it to the side before taking hold of Jean and pinning him onto his back as he let out a cry of protest.

“Marco!”

“Ah-ah, none of that,” I warned him, shushing any further protests with a kiss. He continued to writhe underneath me though as if he hated the fact that I was on the top. I was noticeably broader and stronger than Jean though, so any attempts that the blonde made to flip me back over were squandered and I punished him with a swift nip to the skin lying over his collarbone. He cried out in pleasure and soon surrendered, giving up on trying to get on top of me and focusing more on placing his hands that made me shiver under his touch.

I trailed kisses down his neck and across his collarbone, onto his chest and traced my lips over his exposed nipple. As soon as my breath touched it, Jean drew in an intake of breath and exhaled in a soft moan. Smiling to myself as I knew I had found a sensitive spot, my tongue poked out from between my lips and I dragged it across the sensitive flesh which made Jean moan even louder.

“Oh, God, Marco…” he whispered, reaching out to grab my hair. 

“Easy there,” I cooed and placed my hands on his sides to hold him steady. I traced his nipple a few more times with my tongue, circling around it and feeling it bud against my lips as Jean became more aroused. Not wanting to linger on it for too long, I moved my lips across his chest and did the same to the other nipple, my hand coming up from his side to toy with the other while my tongue flicked across his skin. 

With that hand gone, Jean’s body began to move more freely again and his hips twitched upwards as his own erection strained against his zipper. His moans became more frequent and louder the longer that I toyed with him until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell, Marco,” he whispered. “Please…”

I smirked. “Please, what?”

“Fuck, freckles, don’t you pull that on me,” Jean growled.

“Hmm… Who was it again that said to have patience?” 

“Fuck Marco, fuck patience.” Jean was growing increasingly annoyed and as much as I wanted to continue teasing him because that was almost too enjoyable to let go of, I caved and gave into his demands. 

“Fine,” I said and gave Jean’s nipple a pinch before continuing my trail of kisses down his stomach towards the hem of his jeans. My lips lingered there and I kissed him gently for only a moment as more important things needed my attention. 

My lips trailed from there and paused as I breathed hot air along the length through the jeans which made Jean twitch his hips with a groan. The denim hit my face and with that one action alone of feeling Jean’s clothed crotch against my face, it was my own arousal and the straining through my jeans that made me decide that enough was enough.

I undid Jean’s belt as quick as I could and struggled through the button which believe it or not is very hard to do when erections are on the brain (no pun intended). I was careful with zipper as the last thing I wanted was to accidentally snag Jean in the tiny unforgiving metal teeth. Once those were out of the way, removing his jeans was a simple task and Jean let out a sigh as the constraining material was free from his body.

I sat back for a moment to take in what I would be dealing with and, judging by the size of the tent that was pitched in Jean’s underwear, I was in for so much more than what my dreams had come up with. Six and a half inches at least, I was guessing. I wouldn’t have to guess for long though because Jean’s head was peeking out the top of his underwear and the small wet spot near it on his underwear where his pre-cum had already soaked through made my mouth water and my body shake with lust. 

All the time that I had spent just admiring what I had uncovered, Jean had obviously grown silently impatient and his hand snaked down his body to pull the erect flesh—yup, six and a half— fully out with his underwear and began to stroke himself teasingly; his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he bit his lower lip with a loud moan. There was no way that I was going to let him get himself off when he had my perfectly able mouth at his disposal.

I lowered myself between his legs and kissed the inside of his thighs, moving my way upwards until my nose brushed the underside of his balls. Tentatively, while he was still stroking himself, I flicked my tongue out and led one into my mouth, sucking on it gently, being very aware of my teeth and their placement. Jean writhed against the floor and his breathing increased into heavy pants and groans. God, I loved the sound of his moans.

When Jean started to beat himself off even faster and his moans became louder that was when I batted his hand away and made him calm down. No way in hell was I letting him cum that easily. God only knows when something like this would happen again—if it would even happen again—and I wanted to make it last.

“The hell, freckles?!” he protested, but before he could get another word in, my tongue slowly slid up the length of his cock till I got to his head which I gently wrapped my lips around to suck off the salty pre-cum that was oozing out the tip. All the while, I made direct eye contact with Jean who I had never seen more turned on in my life at the sight of me doing this.

Jean’s face was flushed red with pleasure, his eye lids heavy and lips parted as he panted and fought for his breath. His hair was mussed and stray pieces of his bangs clung to his forehead as beads of sweat broke out. When I released him with an audible ‘pop’ of my lips, he dissolved into shivers and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

I grabbed hold of his erection again with one hand to steady it and my other hand held him steady as I gathered it in my mouth again and went down, then back up, and down again. Each time I went down, I took more into my mouth until I could feel the head of his cock at the back of my throat. When I couldn’t take that sensation, I went back to taking a reasonable amount and my hand joined my mouth until I developed a rhythm that Jean went crazy for.

“Fuck, Marco,” Jean moaned out as he writhed underneath me, agonized in his own pleasure. His hips began to buck in harmony with my strokes and I found myself resisting the urge to gag as he forced his cock back down my throat.

 _Come on, Jean, please cum already_ I thought desperately to myself as Jean’s tight hold of my head couldn’t make me move away. I’ll admit, this was incredibly hot that Jean could still be a power bottom and have this much control over how this played out, but perhaps my fantasy of having hours upon hours of endless sex was a tad excessive—especially for my first time. I kept with him as best as I could until I broke free of his grip and came up for some well needed air. Jean let out a gasp when my mouth was no longer there and he blindly reached out for me.

“No, please, Marco, please…” he begged, his voice a haggard whisper. “I’m right there…” 

Jeez, man. Let a guy breathe for just half a second before you shove your cock down his throat. So maybe there were a couple things that my daydreams had neglected to leave out or maybe I had just granted myself super anti-gag powers in them. Who knows. 

I smirked down at him wordlessly and wrapped my mouth around his cock for the final time and as I slid up and down, I pressed my tongue down hard on the main vein of his shaft. And that right there was the move that sealed the deal.

“Oh God, I’m gonna cum…” Jean murmured suddenly and then with a cry of pleasure, his hips bucked upwards and he came into my mouth. One, two, three, and then a final fourth shot splashed onto my tongue and my hand returned to rubbing his shaft as he did to make sure I got every last drop. Only when Jean’s hips settled back onto the floor with a moan of pleasure did I slide up and off his head to swallow the seed I had collected. It was bitter to the taste and slightly salty, the complete opposite of the chocolate chip cookie flavour that normally accompanied it in my dreams, but it was Jean’s and that was all that I cared about. 

“How was that?” I asked with a lick of my lips, releasing his shaft and crawling up next to him. The beautiful blonde had his arm draped over his forehead and his eyes were closed as he recovered. I propped myself up on my elbows and smiled cheekily at him till he opened one eye to glance over at me. As soon as he saw my goofy grin, he chuckled lightly to himself and turned his head away. God, he was exceptionally gorgeous when he smiled.

“Who knew that Marco Bodt was also a sex-fiend extraordinaire?” he said mainly to himself.

I blushed a harsh red. “Well, not really. I mean—WHA!”

I was cut off a Jean suddenly turned right over and rolled into me, taking hold of my wrists and somehow through flailing limbs managed to pin me on my back.

“But Jean, you already—” But I was cut off as Jean pressed his lips to mine.

“Just because I already came,” he began, trailing kisses along my jawline, “doesn’t mean that I can’t make you cum. Besides…” A mischievous grin crossed his chiseled face and he reached down to grasp the aching erection that was still throbbing painfully in my jeans, earning him a shuddering gasp from me. I nearly came at the next words that spilled from his lips. “…I haven't shown you what I can do…”

“Well what are you waiting for then?” I taunted, squirming underneath his body as I imagined all the possibilities of what was about to happen. I ground into his hand teasingly and shuddered as a wave of pleasure washed over me; I was dying to know what those hands and mouth could do to me and unlike him, I didn’t fight back.

“I’m going to make you make you eat your words, Marco Bodt. You’ll be begging for me to slow down,” Jean purred and planted a passionate kiss right on my lips before he began his descent. 

While I spent a lot of time with my foreplay on Jean, I guess he had decided that we had done enough of that and went right for my crotch—thankfully. It was the least he could do for keeping my trapped in my jeans this entire time. He kissed down my body, feeling my sleek and toned sides as he went down and then glanced up at me with the lust-filled eyes when he had reached his destination. With an expert combination of teeth and tongue, he undid the button of my jeans before grasping the zipper between his teeth and dragging it down so my cock sprang free from its denim prison. God, he was good.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” I asked breathlessly, craning my neck to look at him.

“None of your business, freckles,” Jean retorted, wasting no time in removing the last barrier of clothing that prevented us from being completely naked together and he cast my boxer briefs aside with our other strewn away clothing. 

I sighed and leaned my head back down, supressing a shiver as I felt Jean’s lips close around the head of my cock. Everything was warm and wonderful and the faster he went, the higher I climbed into my state of euphoria. I clenched my sleeping bag underneath me hard between my hands enough to turn my knuckles white and thrust my hips along with him automatically. 

“Fuck…” I breathed out, trying my hardest not to cum, but the more I positively responded to Jean, the harder he went until I knew I was seconds away from climaxing. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed over me and I relished in the warmth that was enveloped around me, and I pushed my shaft further into his mouth. But no sooner did I do that when all of a sudden the cold air hit me and Jean’s mouth was gone.

My eyes shot open and I sat up abruptly just to catch Jean’s legs scrambling out of the tent and accompanied by a dreadful puking noise moments later. Well, damn; the alcohol finally caught up with him. With a sigh of disappointment knowing I wouldn’t be getting that orgasm that I so desperately had wanted, I retrieved my underwear and Jean’s, slipping my own on before joining him outside.

Jean was hunched over with his hands on his knees, his chest heaving as he tried to supress another hurling episode. He heard me come up behind me and turned with head away with a groan.

“Oh, God, Marco, no… Don’t look at me; this is so embarrassing.” 

I smiled and rubbed his back. “Hey, what are friends for,” I said with a sheepish laugh and held out his underwear. “Besides, I thought you might be needing these.”

Jean feebly glanced back over, not making eye contact and grabbed the underwear from my hand. “Thanks,” he said and slipped them on before straightening up. “I think it’s over now.”

I blinked in confusion. “What? The sex? The puking…?”

Jean’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh fuck, I am so sorry,” he groaned.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay; don’t worry about it,” I reassured him, though deep down I was still desperately craving for him to finish me off. “It’s no big deal. Let’s get you into bed, okay? But not the tent—I think you’ll be wanting somewhere softer to sleep.”

Jean grumbled something inaudible under his breath, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay. Come on then—don’t worry about that. I’ll clean it up tomorrow.” Slinging an arm around the obviously embarrassed Jean, I led him into the house and up the stairs back to my bedroom. 

He crawled in first and got settled while I brushed my teeth and prayed that the alcohol that I still had sloshing around in me would stay down. I looked into the mirror when I was done and my freckled face stared back at me with unblinking eyes.

“You just had sex with Jean Kirstein,” I said quietly to my reflection, watching my mouth move as the words spilled from my lips. “You just had sex with your best friend that you have had a crush on for so long.” I let the words sink in, repeating them over and over and over again as if I didn’t quite believe them the time before the last. Or maybe I was trying to convince myself that it didn’t actually happen and I wouldn’t have to go through the guilt and the pain of either revealing everything to Mina or keeping this burden on my shoulders for the rest of my life. 

I groaned a little louder than what I had intended. I didn’t even want to think about what I was going to do in the days that were to come.

“You okay?” I heard Jean’s groggy voice come from the bedroom. “Are you going to be sick?”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “No, sorry, I’m coming,” I said and shut off the bathroom lights before returning to him.

Jean was curled up in bed with blankets up to his chin and as soon as he saw me enter, he pulled the blankets aside so I could crawl into the other side. Good thing I had a double bed…even if it was Reiner and Bertholdt’s old one…

I pulled the blankets over me as I got in and then rolled on my side, the outline of Jean’s face becoming more defined as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. We lay there in silence for the longest time as if we had no idea what to say to one another, if anything, until Jean’s hand slowly moved and it came to rest on my cheek, his thumb gently running along my cheekbone.

“That was…wow…that was something else,” he murmured. “That was…I mean, you were…incredible.”

My cheek turned hot under his hand and I turned my head to kiss his palm. “You too,” I whispered back.

Jean let out a small scoff. “Don’t you lie to me, freckles.”

“I’m serious,” I insisted and propped myself up on one elbow, moving a stray piece of hair off of Jean’s forehead. He was so beautiful, even all sticky from sweat and smelling faintly like puke. “Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to—” I cut myself off suddenly, unwilling to let myself finish that sentence. “Nevermind…”

“What?” Jean asked, now curious and I mentally chastised myself.

“I-it’s nothing,” I said, settling back down and facing away from Jean.

“Is this about Mina?” he asked, ignoring me. 

I flinched when I heard her name. “I said it’s nothing, Jean. Please can we just let it go?”

Jean sighed almost irritably. “I told you that I wouldn’t say anything to her, and I meant that. Do you know what would happen to us if the school knew what we had just done?” He paused and an uncomfortable prickle crawled across my skin at the thought. “Look, what happened, happened, okay? There’s nothing we can do to change that. So maybe can you just forget it about for tonight and when the time comes we’ll deal with it? Please look at me…”

At his pleading voice, I turned back to face him. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Jean. I’m a cheater now and that reputation will never ever go away, no matter how much I deny it; do you understand that?”

Jean sighed again, but this time it was sympathetic. “Worrying about it isn’t going to change what happened. Just close your eyes and try to get some rest, okay?” He moved slightly and kissed my lips gently. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”

“Promises are hard to keep,” I breathed, goose bumps breaking out on my arms at the feel of his soft lips.

The corner of Jean’s lip turned up in a small smile. “Not this one,” he whispered back and kissed me once more.

I found some comfort in his words and moved my head onto his chest when he shifted onto his back. The sound of his heart beat deep within his strong chest and the way his fingers stroked my hair was enough to lull me into a peaceful sleep, and whether it was my own thoughts or I actually heard it, I swore in my last moments of consciousness I heard Jean whisper something that made my blood run cold.

“I love you, Marco Bodt.”

Well, shit.


	3. So, This is It?

The sound of the early morning chickadees and the sunlight that streamed in through my bedroom window woke me the next morning. My eyes fluttered open and I blinked several times to get used to the harsh light. By my guess it was at least ten o’clock, Monday morning, which meant it was a school day, but my class wasn’t until the afternoon; I still had plenty of time to get ready.

Heaving a yawn and stretching out my legs, I tried to move, but something that I had not been aware of before was holding me to the bed. I froze from my struggling and every one of my muscles tensed as recollections of last night slowly started trickling their way back into my memory.

 _Please don't be Jean, please don't be Jean_ , I silently pleaded, but I didn't even need to crane my head to know that the arm that was draped around my waist belonged to my best friend. For one, I didn’t know anybody else with fingernails worse than Jean's as he had a bad habit of biting them whenever he was stressed. These fingernails were also jagged and growing back at odd angles, and if I listened closely, I could hear Jean’s distinct but discrete signature snore.

I didn’t know what to do. Did I try to move without waking him or would I just sink back down into the depths of the blankets and wait for him to wake up. Oh, how awkward would that be… I didn’t want to stick around and find out.

Trying with all my might not to wake Jean, I gently pried his arm off of me and slid out of the bed. Jean moaned and shuffled around a little, but his eyes never once opened. I glanced behind me to look at his sleeping figure and the pillow that I had been using moments before was now being used as a cuddle object with Jean’s arms and legs fitted securely around it and pressed close to his body. 

I had to smile—it was just too adorable and Jean with his fluffy hair and bare chest in my bed looked so right and natural. It was like he belonged there. With that thought, my smile quickly faded and guilt clouded over my bliss. Last night should never have happened, no matter what Jean said. Now he and I would never be the same ever again and that thought pained me to the core. We could never go back to being just Jean and Marco. There would always be that awkwardness and sexual tension, and God forbid if Jean and Mina were ever in the same room together. The very thought made my skin crawl.

Another pang of guilt, this time stronger, stabbed me in the gut like a knife. By doing what I did with Jean last night, I had betrayed the one girl that I think I actually loved. Mina wasn't just any girl either; she was much more to me than that—she was my girlfriend.

“What have I done?” I whispered to myself.

Desperately, I searched for a way to distract myself. First thing was first—shower. I forced myself to look away from Jean as I gathered a pile of clean clothes and a towel from the linin closet. At the sound of Jean shuffling again in the bedroom, I quickly retreated into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I really needed to chill—what was I so afraid of?

I turned the water on as hot as I could put it without burning my skin right off and peeled out of my underwear. Like I had done last night, I looked at myself in the mirror, except this time I didn’t recognize myself. My dark hair stuck up in numerous places and my natural cow lick was even worse than it was most days. My cheeks were sunken and two dark circles that looked like bruises had formed under my eyes, contrasting greatly with my pale complexion. 

I looked terrible.

My eyes trailed down my body and I got no further than my neck before something that I hadn’t noticed the night before grabbed my attention. Right at the nape of my neck, two dark hickies stuck out, joined at their bases so they looked exactly…like a heart…

_I love you, Marco Bodt._

Jean’s voice rang in my head loud and clear and I knew that I had not imagined that angelic voice saying words that I had only heard him say in my most romantic day dreams. In my dreams, there was nothing that could have made me happier, but now that he had said them out loud, I had never felt more terrified in my entire life than what I was feeling right now.

 _Stop, stop, stop_ I repeated over and over in my head to drown him out, but it wasn’t until I stepped into the scalding water that I finally began to feel more at ease. The water rained down on me and after working my Old Spice body wash into a lather, I scrubbed myself clean from head to toe. With any luck, the memories of last night would wash down the drain as well and this living nightmare would be over.

Unfortunately for me, everything went down the drain but them. I rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, toweling my hair and body dry before changing into fresh jeans and a t-shirt. I stuffed my old underwear deep into the laundry hamper just outside the door and with a tiny peek into the bedroom to check on Jean—he was still sleeping—I went downstairs to prepare pancakes.

Upon entering the large kitchen, I saw Reiner and Bertholdt, Reiner mulling over the morning newspaper, coffee in hand, and Bertholdt unloading the dishwasher. Both of them looked up when they saw me come down the stairs.

“Good morning, Marco!” Bertholdt called out cheerfully and Reiner murmured out a “morning.”

I mustered up my best smile. “Morning, guys. Off to work soon?” I asked, noting their suits all pressed and ironed, looking sharp as ever. Reiner worked as a lawyer downtown and Bertholdt was a receptionist at the fancy hotel downtown until he could finish his studies at the University to be a teacher.

“Yep, just about to head out the door in a few minutes,” Bertholdt answered.

“Oh, okay, I was just going to make some pancakes, but I’ll wait until you guys leave.”

“No, no, by all means, the kitchen is yours. I would make you some if I didn’t have to leave so soon,” Bertholdt said with a disappointed sigh.

“It’s all good,” I said with a smile, squeaking past Bertholdt to get to the fridge and as I did, I felt Reiner’s eyes boring into the back of my skull.

“Say, Marco, what you do have on your neck there?” the blonde asked.

I froze in place from getting the eggs out of the fridge, my blood running cold. Out of all the things I could have forgotten to do, I forgot to cover up the hickey Jean gave me. Kill me now.

“Oh that?” I said as calmly as I could though my knees quaked with nervousness. “That’s nothing, just a little blemish.” I put the eggs on the counter and rummaged for the other supplies, craning my neck at an awkward angle so that neither of them could get a better look at it.

Reiner chuckled and took a drink of his coffee. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that looks like a hickey. Don’t you think so too, Bertholdt?” 

“Nope, nope, it’s definitely not a hickey,” I interrupted before Bertholdt could say anything. “Just a little bruise from when we were setting up the tent last night. Those rods are pretty dangerous—nearly stabbed me right through the neck. You guys might want to start thinking about investing in a better one.”

“Oh God, I hope you’re okay now,” Bertholdt fussed, to my surprise buying my half-assed and obvious lie.

“Yeah, totally fine,” I reassured him, shying away as he tried to look at it. “I’ll just put some ice on it later.” I glanced over at Reiner who I knew wasn’t as oblivious as his other half, and he thankfully didn’t pry any further.

“Say, speaking of pain in the necks, where’s Jean? Didn’t he spend the night?” he asked, draining the rest of his coffee and folding up his newspaper.

“He’s, uh, he’s still sleeping. We didn’t get to sleep till pretty late last night.”

Reiner smirked and rinsed out his cup. “I can imagine,” he said and my ears burned.

“Because of the meteor shower,” I quickly added.

“Because of the meteor shower,” Reiner repeated with a small chuckle and then glanced at his watch. “Well, it looks like we had better get going so we’re not late. You two have fun today, alright?”

“Try not to burn the house down!” Bertholdt added as he slipped on his jacket. “We’ll be home later tonight. There should be a plate of dinner in the fridge if you get hungry.”

I smiled, feeling touched that they cared about me so much. “Will do; see you two later.”

Then with a wave and a couple scattered “good-bye’s”, Reiner shut the door behind them and I was left in the kitchen alone. Within moments, my mind started to wander back to my dark thoughts and without the two of them to distract me, I felt as though the kitchen had shrunk half its usual size and my thoughts were closing in on me. I never thought that last night would equate to me being on the verge of a nervous breakdown, yet here I was: a shaking mess and playing out every single worse-case scenario that I had stored in my arsenal.

 _Pancakes. Pancakes. Just make some pancakes_ I repeated over and over in my head to counteract them, locating the flour, the frying pan, and the rest of my materials, including the cinnamon. Today was definitely a day for cinnamon pancakes.

Within moments I had my batter prepared and the first pancakes sizzling away in the frying pan. The aroma of the cinnamon was enough to calm me for a few moments until a pair of strong arms snaked around my waist and pulled me against the warm figure that they belonged to. _Oh, please, no…_

“Good morning, freckles. Sleep well?” Jean purred, kissing my cheek and continuing down my neck with soft, gentle lips.

I shivered at Jean's touch, but was quick to shrug him off. “Um, yeah,” I murmured, taking the finished pancakes and placing them on the plate that was resting on the counter. I hardly dared to look over at Jean.

“What's the matter?” Jean asked, following me and leaning up against the counter, sticking himself in my peripheral vision.

Glancing over at my best friend for only a moment, I noticed that unlike me, Jean hadn't gotten dressed and was clad in just his boxers which exposed his nicely toned abs.

I licked my lips nervously. “Nothing,” I lied, averting my gaze and putting more batter into the frying pan.

“You’re a terrible liar, Marco. It sure as hell doesn't sound like nothing. What's wrong?” Jean reached out and his fingers brushed my arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it was that final touch that made me nearly snap.

“Please, Jean, just…don’t.” My word hardly came out as a haggard whisper and for whatever reason it made Jean cross.

“Don’t what?” he asked, irritation clear as day in his voice. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Just don’t touch me, Jean, please,” I said a little more firmly this time, shying away from Jean's hands. A lump had formed itself in my throat and I felt the beginnings of frustrated tears starting to form.

“Okay, now I’m just really confused right now. What happened in the last eight hours to make you so sketchy around me?" Hell, last night you didn’t want me to take my hands off of you, and now this morning—” He moved closer and reached for me again which made my heart pound and my brain nearly explode from the wave of emotions crashing over me.

“Last night was a mistake, Jean!” I shouted impulsively, the tears stinging behind my eyes at the overwhelming feeling of guilt that was caught in my throat and threatening to choke me.

Jean was silent for a moment and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I stared straight at the blurry pancakes which needed to be flipped over, but I didn’t move to get the spatula. My words had come our harsher than what I had intended; this wasn’t the way I had planned for this to go at all. 

“A mistake,” he repeated, his voice deadpan. He exhaled sharply out his nose when I didn’t respond. “Wow, um…okay.” He grew silent again and my skin burned at his next words. “So what does this mean for us then?”

Although he was trying to mask it, I could hear the hurt in his voice and it absolutely killed me. 

“There is no 'us', Jean,” I whispered, my voice hardly audible.

The awkward silences between our exchanges hung in the air like a poisonous gas. It felt heavy, unnatural, suffocating, and the ringing in my ears was deafening.

“Is this…Is this because of that I said last night? Did you hear me?” Jean asked quietly.

“You said you loved me, Jean,” I choked out. “How am I supposed to react to that? How am I supposed to feel? What do you want me to say?”

For the first time this morning, I looked at his face. His amber eyes were gazing pleadingly into mine and his shoulders began to tremble, an action that spread all the way down his arm and ended at his fingertips.

“I… I want you to tell me that you love me too,” he said, his voice shaking. 

There was a silence between us after that seemed to stretch on forever. The pancakes in the frying pan let out a sizzle that indicated they were burning, but I made no move to get them.

“You know I can’t say that,” I whispered gently.

“And why not?” Jean’s voice grew harsher. “I know you do, so why can’t you say it?”

“Because I love Mina!” I said desperately. “You can’t… I can’t…I can’t do this, Jean. I can’t love you.”

“Just because you can’t doesn’t mean that you don’t, Marco. I’m not fucking stupid. You don’t think I’ve ever noticed how you act around me? I know you feel the same towards me as I do for you.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel about you,” I seethed, matching his angry tone. “I don’t love you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them and I instantly wished that I could take them back.

Jean’s mouth gaped open slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, then he closed it and suddenly grew incredibly rigid.

“Jean? I didn’t mean—” I stammered and reached towards him, but he smacked my hand away angrily.

“I told you I loved you, and I meant it, Marco! I love you! I always have! I thought that after last night when you kissed me in the attic that we could finally be something!” Jean took hold of my shoulders and shook me once, his eyes desperately searching my face for some emotion. 

The tears pricking my eyes threatened to overflow again and made my voice crack as I spoke my next words. “I love Mina,” I whispered.

“You can leave her!” Jean shook me again, his voice quieter and more desperate. “You think I don’t know the reason why you won’t sleep with her?”

“Alright, that’s it, you’ve crossed the line. You know nothing about our relationship, so don’t pretend that you do,” I warned him, shying away from his hands. “I can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! How can you even think that leaving her is even a possibility? Imagine what that would do to her, Jean! Didn't you hear me the first time? Last night was a mistake! It shouldn't have happened!”

By the time I finished speaking, I was nearly yelling and red in the face with anger, but instead of lashing out at me like I expected him to, Jean closed the gap between us in a swift second and kissed me with so much passion that an electric current shot down my back and all the way down to my feet. But instead of surrendering to the kiss, I stood rigid until Jean pulled away.

“…Nothing?” Jean whispered.

I looked away from my best friend, my lips pursed and I shook my head even though it was a lie. When I glanced back over at Jean, the hurt on the blonde’s face was clear as day.  
“Fine, you can have her,” Jean said coldly as he turned away from me and began to make his way towards the door to the backyard.

“Jean, wait…” I began automatically, not wanting Jean to leave in a fight, but Jean ignored me and slammed the door shut. Moments later, I saw him again through the kitchen window, fully clothed and with his possessions in hand. He didn't bother looking in through the kitchen window, but rather wiped tears from his eyes angrily and disappeared around the side of the house.

I bolted for the front door and dashed into the front yard, cutting him off as he came into view.

“Get out of my way, Bodt,” he snarled and tried to push me out of the way, but I grabbed his shoulders and held him in place, his struggling eventually ceasing. He hadn’t called me by my last name in the longest time, and he only did it when he was angry with me.

“No, please, you have to listen to me. What I said—”

“I heard what you said already!” Jean yelled, breaking out of my restraint. “I heard you loud and clear. You don’t love me; what else do you want to say to me? That our friendship has been a lie, too?”

“No, stop, just stop,” I said as calmly as I could, meeting his burning eyes and I sighed before speaking again. “When I said I didn’t love you, that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, Jean. I will always, always, care about you.”

Jean scoffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced off to the side.

“Please look at me. I love you as my best friend. I love the Jean that I can play video games with, that I can go hiking with, the Jean that I can always count on and know will be behind me even when everyone else isn’t. We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t want to lose you.”

“It’s a little late for that now, Marco,” Jean muttered. “Excuse me.” He adjusted his backpack, then rudely bumped into my shoulder as he passed.

“I told you last night that nothing was ever going to come out of this, Jean, and you knew that perfectly well. You’re acting like a child over nothing.”

“Over nothing?!” Jean stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his backpack, fury contorting his face as he spun around to face me again. “Let me tell you something, Bodt. For years I’ve tried to tell myself that I don’t feel anything for you because I was scared of rejection. Last night you made me believe that I could finally not be afraid, and then you humiliated me in the worst way possible in the morning. So you know what? Fuck you, Marco. Fuck you.”

My mouth gaped open and it felt as though he had ripped my heart from my chest and stamped it into the ground. His eyes bore into mine with an anger that I didn’t know he was capable of, but tears glistened near the rim. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I really am.”

Jean’s jaw visibly clenched and he exhaled sharply. “That means nothing to me,” he spat through gritted teeth. “Keep your half-assed apologies, I don’t want to hear them.”  
My throat seized up as a familiar lump found its way back and the tears that had been teetering precariously on my lower lids finally spilled over onto my cheeks.

“So, this is it, then?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Yeah,” Jean replied coldly. “We’re done.” 

Then, with a final spit at my feet, Jean retrieved his backpack and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this has been on hiatus. But school is coming to a close now so I'll have plenty of more time to write. c:


End file.
